Talk Dirty to Me
by pandorabox82
Summary: When Penelope begins to receive a series of phone calls from someone that sounds exactly like Erin Strauss, she begins to wonder if she's going insane or if someone is playing a cruel joke on her. But then, Blake joins her in her beliefs, and they begin a desperate search for their still living boss. Will they be able to get to her in time this time?
1. Chapter 1

"Talk dirty to me, Ms. Garcia."  
Penelope blanched before pulling away the phone to look at the caller id. Unknown name, unknown number, stared back at her and she frowned, putting it back to her ear once more. "This isn't funny, you know. Why would you want to hurt me like this?" she said hotly before hanging up, not wanting to hear any answer that voice might give. It didn't take long for the tears to come, they'd been at the forefront ever since Strauss had died.

Sighing, she stood and went over to her window, staring out at the street below her. She had found herself missing the woman immensely, something that surprised her a great deal. Penelope had never really given much thought to her until the last year they had spent together, really working in tandem. She had found out the whip smart sense of humor Erin had buried beneath the persona of quiet authority, the quick smile she had when something pleased her, the intelligence that she possessed, all those things told her how much she had missed out by not reaching out to the woman before.

A deep sadness swept over her, and she turned from the window, moving over to her rows of pictures. There was only one of Erin there, from JJ's wedding, and she smiled as she picked up the frame, rubbing her thumb over her face. "Why did you have to leave us, Sugar? Dave doesn't know what to do with himself now that you're gone. My father figure is lost and I have no clue how to guide him back to us. I don't have any words for him, or for you."

Sighing, she set the picture aside and sank down on the couch, hugging her legs tightly. The ringing of her phone unnerved her once more, and she picked it up, only to stare at it. Penelope's brain struggled to recognize that it was Emily's number there on the screen and she answered. "Hey, Em."

"Hey, yourself. What took you so long to answer?"

"I just got a weird call from someone playing a horribly cruel practical joke. But it sounded just like her, just like Erin!"

Emily made a soft tsking sound and Penelope shrugged. "That seems a little out there, PG."

"Well, there was that one episode of the Twilight Zone, where the grandmother would call her grandson from beyond the veil. It's totally possible."

"And yet, if it were, why would she be calling you and not Rossi? Or one of her children? I'm sorry to say this, but they were much closer to her than you were. It would be fitting if they got a call from her, if she were reaching out from beyond the grave."

She nodded and sighed lightly. "I know. I just want to hold on to some shred of hope that says she's alive. Like you were alive. I mean, it's been done before. They've faked deaths until the unsub was for sure and for certain incapacitated. Should I give up on that fragile hope? I didn't see her body after all, and it was a closed casket funeral. Just like yours."

Penelope knew that she was grasping at straws, but it was all she had to hold onto at the moment. Over the line, she heard the disconsolate sound of sympathy that her friend made, and she let herself cry, unable to hold the tears in any longer. "Honey, not everyone comes back from the dead. No matter how much we want that to be true."

"But why her? Why not Blake, who came back to the fold when Curtis never could? Why not Gideon or Rossi, who also worked the case, and let the mistake happen? Why her, after everything she had done to overcome her demons and to make amends? It's not fair!" She swiped at her eyes. "And before you tell me that life's not always fair, let me tell you that I know that. But she deserved more than fair!"

"Oh, Garcia. I don't have words for you, then. Just, try and keep your chin up. They depend on your sunny disposition at work to pull them out of their doldrums. And Dave, especially, is going to need you now more than ever. From everything you told me, he was deeply in love with her, and this can't be easy on him. That's two loves his lost in the space of a year."

"That's right, Carolyn," she breathed out, clutching the fabric of her blouse between her fingers. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for talking me down off the ledge, so to speak. I'll talk to you later." Hanging up before Emily could say anything in return, she turned her phone off and then hurriedly pulled out her back up phone and also turned it off.

Moving over to her dresser like a ghost, she pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She changed slowly, thinking about Dave and what he must be going through, losing two women so close to him so quickly. And such different circumstances to their passing. More tears came to the forefront and she collapsed on the bed, hugging her extra pillow tightly to her chest. It hurt to think of his sorrow and she cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, she saw that she had missed a number of calls, mostly from Emily, but one from Derek, as well. Knowing she couldn't avoid him for too long, she quickly dialed his number and waited for him to pick up. "You're finally calling me back, Baby Girl? What, did you have a late night last night?"

"Nothing so interesting as that. It was just a really rough night. I miss Erin."

"We all do, honey. More than I think we thought we would. What time are you planning on rolling in today?"

"Probably in about an hour or so. I still have to shower and make coffee. May I hide out in your office for a little bit? I still feel a little off kilter."

"Of course, sweetness. See you soon." They air kissed and she hung up, going into the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee before padding into the bathroom and taking a quick shower. As she dried off, she thought about what she would wear. There was nothing that really spoke about the sorrows of her heart, and so she pulled out her favorite white and navy polka-dotted dress, throwing a sweater over her arm before picking up her purse and phones, heading out to face the day and whatever it would bring.


	2. Chapter 2

"Talk dirty to me, Ms. Garcia."

It was the second time in as many days that she had received the same phone call. This time, she wasn't quite so quick to hang up, instead taking a deep breath and opening her mouth to speak. "Who are you?" she asked sadly, feeling the quick tears, ever at the forefront these days, begin to course down her cheek.

"Your past," the voice on the other end of the line whispered, sounding almost as sad. Penelope gasped as she began to cry. "Oh, don't cry. Find me, please. Before he really hurts me."

The line went dead and she brought her phone down to stare at it, unable to comprehend the request the voice had made. Stepping out into the bullpen, she looked down at her friends, wondering if they had gotten any weird calls lately. Or if this was all just some horrible prank Kevin was pulling on her. He hadn't let her live down the fact that she had needed him to fix her systems, that she couldn't concentrate long enough to help her beloved friends out.

Derek looked up at her from Reid's desk, smiling gently at her and waving. She waved back and then took a deep breath. She had to ask someone about what was going on, and the only person she could think of was Hotch. After all, he had been the one to cover up Emily's supposed death.

Knocking softly on his door, she waited for his command before entering the room. "Ah, Garcia. What can I do for you?"

Closing the door, she took a seat in front of his desk, waiting for him to look up at her. Once they had established eye contact, she took a deep breath and began to speak. "Sir, I, I have to talk to you about something. Something that might not make sense, even to you. Heaven knows it doesn't make sense to me. Was Curtis working alone?"

His eyes narrowed as he pulled out a decanter of brandy, holding it out to her. She shook her head and he stuck the bottle back in his drawer, sighing deeply. "Why would you ask something like that, Penelope?"

"Because it doesn't make sense. How did he know so much about us? How could he be in three different places at once? I looked at some of those pictures he took of us, and there is no way he could have surveiled us that closely on his own. None of this makes sense. So, I'm asking you, was that bastard working alone?"

Hotch shrugged. "We didn't really investigate further, once his house blew up. You know that. We closed the case, buried Erin, and have tried to move on. It's been three weeks, why are you bringing this up now?"

It was her turn to shrug. "I've not been sleeping well, since we buried her. She still haunts my peripheral vision, smiling at me, asking me to avenge her."

"We did. Rossi did. He killed the bastard that killed her."

"But what if, what if it was all some big shell game? Misdirection at its finest?"

He shook his head. "No, she died in my arms. I felt the life drain from her. There is no way she survived his attack. If you do this to yourself, you'll drive yourself crazy. She's gone, and you, we, have to move on."

She nodded, knowing that she would get nowhere with the man. "I'll try, Aaron. For you." He smiled gently at her and she reached out her hand. He clasped it tightly, squeezing a few times in an effort to make her feel better, and she tried to plaster some semblance of a smile on her own face. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Never apologize for wanting a different outcome, Penelope. She would have been happy to know that you thought highly enough of her to want to think her still alive." She nodded a few times before letting go of his hand and slipping out of the office. This time, it was Blake who looked up at her, the same sorrow lining her face that Penelope was certain on hers. She beckoned the woman over to her office with her head, and Blake nodded in agreement, standing up and coming towards her.

Penelope sat heavily on her sofa, covering her lower face with her hands as she thought about her boss's reaction. "Hey, Garcia. How're you doing?"

"Not so good, Alex. You sort of look the way that I feel today."

She nodded and took a seat next to her. "This is going to sound so stupid, but I miss Erin. We actually had a good conversation on the way to the hotel, and I finally accepted her amends. And then he went and destroyed her hope. She was so hopeful, Garcia, so hopeful that we could start over, that she and Rossi would be getting married, that her kids would finally start moving past her addiction. And he stole that from her. Hotch told me about her last moments, how she wanted her children to know that her slip was not voluntary, how she loved them all, and I'm left here, without any way to move on."

Penelope was startled by the woman's tears, and she reached out to her, letting Blake fall against her, burrow in close, draw comfort and support from her. "I don't think she's dead."

Blake stiffened in her arms, pulling away to glare at her. "That's not funny."

"I didn't mean it to be. I seriously do not think she's dead. I've gotten two phone calls from her in the last two days. The first one, I thought was a horrible, horrible, joke. I yelled and hung up before she could say anything else."

"And?" Blake prodded, a tiny flicker of hope flaming to life in her eyes.

"And I don't think Curtis was working alone. Someone fed his psychosis, someone drove him to this point. She's alive, that person is holding her captive, and I need someone who believes me to help me find her. I need to bring her home to Rossi."

"I'll do it. I'll help you." Penelope nodded hesitantly. "I will. I will help you bring her home."

"All right, we'll need to keep this under wraps, though. You know they'll think we're unhinged if we voice this to anyone else." Blake nodded in agreement before holding her hand out to Penelope. "Until we bring Erin home."

"Until we bring her home."


	3. Chapter 3

"Talk dirty to me, Ms. Garcia."

She had been anticipating this call all morning, and a soft smile spread across her face. "You can call me Penelope, Erin. I, that is, we are looking for you. Just Blake and myself. The others think I've talked myself into believing something that isn't true, so, she was the only one who would help me. Do you know who has you?"

"No, he never shows me his face. But his voice, I feel like I know it from somewhere. I have to go, I can hear him coming. He doesn't know, yet."

"I understand. I'll be waiting for tomorrow's call."

"Of course. I love you all."

Those soft words tore at Penelope's heart, and she tried to stop the tears that came to her eyes as she set the phone aside. A soft knocking on her door caused her to look up into Blake's eyes. "Come in."

"Did you just get another call?"

"Yes. It's her, and she is being held captive somewhere. By a man that she knows. She hasn't seen his face, but recognizes his voice. She told me she loves us." Her eyes welled up as she bowed her head, turning from Alex. "She loves us, all of us, and we did nothing to protect her."

Alex knelt in front of her, reaching out to clasp her hands. "Was she able to give you any clues about where she was being held?"

"No. She heard him coming back." Blake nodded hesitantly, and Penelope leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her neck. "What if he really hurts her before we can save her? What if, after she reached out to us, we're too late? I couldn't bear it if we had this thin silver cord of hope in our fingers only to have it snapped."

"I know, Penelope, I know." Blake rubbed her back. "But we know that she is out there, we know that we have that thin cord in our grasp. You know, William Blake wrote this poem, entitled Auguries of Innocence. One of the things that always stands out about it in my mind is his words on joy and hope. How finely woven they are, making up the clothing of our souls. And that beneath every sorrow we have, there is that bright, shining, glimpse of hope."

"That sounds so lovely, Alex," she whispered, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she finally pushed herself away from the woman, trying to smile at her. "Derek's going to know I've been crying. What do I tell him?"

"Tell him you read a sad story on the internet. Or that there's a particularly rough case you're working on for one of the other teams. I don't think he'd understand this, do you?"

Penelope shook her head. "You have a point there, Alex. He, he's hurting her. She sounds terrified. How can I sleep well, knowing that there is someone out there hurting her? Rossi is going to be so upset that I didn't figure out how to rescue her sooner, you know."

"No, he won't. He'll be grateful that you found her." Alex reached out and squeezed her shoulder softly. "Now, have you tried to do a trap and trace on the calls?"

"No. I never know when she's calling, it's been at a different time each call. If I had some inkling of when she was going to phone, I could put one in place. I'm floundering here, and I wish that it could be different."

The woman nodded sympathetically. "Why don't we go out to lunch today? You could use a break here, get your mind off the sadness for a little while. I, I could use the company as well."

"That would be really nice, Alex. And you could tell me some stories about her, from before. I didn't start with the BAU until after the Amerithrax case, so I really only now a tiny part of her history."

A small smile passed across Blake's lips and she grinned in return. "And I can tell you about that Christmas party in the office, where Dave and Erin almost got caught."

"What? They were a couple before, too?"

"Uh huh. Between wife number one and wife number two. She hadn't married Alan yet."

Penelope grinned as she smacked Blake's arm. "You've been holding out on us! I need to have all the details, now!"

"That, my dear, will have to wait until lunch. I think you can hold out for another hour or two, don't you?"

She shook her head and pouted a little. "Please?"  
Alex laughed a little. "No."

"Fine. We head out to lunch in exactly forty five minutes. Yes, it will be early, but I need to hear that story!" Penelope stared Blake down until she nodded and she grinned in triumph. Standing, she hugged Blake quickly before settling in front of her computer screens once more in an attempt to focus on something that morning.

It was a rather difficult task, she soon found out, as her mind swirled around with thoughts of Erin and how to save her and the promise of hearing a story about her. Finally, though, it was time to head out, and Blake knocked on her door. "Ready to head out?"

"I was ready a while ago," she replied, going over to her side. Together, they went over to the elevators, and as soon as the doors were closed, she turned to Blake. "Alex, spill. Tell me the story."

"Fine. So, Erin and I were both fresh out of the Academy, and beginning here. Dave was on everyone's radar, but he became infatuated with Erin. They danced around each other for months, and it was easy to see that Erin was quickly falling in love with him. We were both young, in our twenties, and she was still as open to read as a poster. She didn't learn to conceal her heart until afterwards."

There was a small tinge of sadness in Alex's voice, and Penelope reached out, clasping her hand softly. "He hurt her, didn't he?"

"Oh, yes, but not until later. This is a happy story, though, so let's focus on that." She cleared her throat a little and took a deep breath. "So, we were having our Christmas party, and I noticed that Erin and Dave had slipped away. It was a little obvious what they were planning on doing, especially since the punch had been spiked. Erin's inhibitions were always lower when she had been drinking…"

"Did you two..?"

"Maybe. I don't really like to speak about that time, we both ended up hurting each other. So, I decided to go looking for them, to make sure that they wouldn't be caught. I ran into Director Shepperd, well, he was just an AD at the time, just as he was about to head into Dave's office. I could hear the sounds behind the doors, but he seemed to be a bit oblivious to them."

"And?"

"Once he had gone, I knocked on the door and then opened it. Her dress was rucked up around her hips and they were still…together. It was hot, I'm not going to lie. And then, she looked at me and smiled. It was breathtaking. I nodded and backed out of the room, letting them finish, and we went about our lives. I'm glad they're getting their second chance."

"Well, third really," Penelope answered as they stepped out and began to walk down the hall and out the door. "So, tell me more about her." Alex nodded as they turned in the direction of the café they liked, smiling widely. "I want to know everything I can about her, so I have things to talk about when she calls."

"Then I will give you everything I know."


	4. Chapter 4

"Penelope."

Erin was crying the next time she called. Penelope quickly muted the song she was listening to, and focused in on the woman. "What's wrong, honey bunch?"

"He, he knows. He knows about the cellphone, told me so this morning. He wanted me to call, to contact you." There was a deep hurt in her voice, and Penelope wondered what had happened to her in the time since they had last spoken. "He wants me to tell you what he did to me, what he'll continue to do to me until he kills me."

Her voice broke and Penelope longed to hug Erin, to hold her close and tell her that she would protect her no matter what. "What does he want you to tell me?" she asked, dreading what she would hear next.

"I'm so cold now, I think he keeps me in the coldest part of the basement. He tore my clothes off me last night, made me sleep nude, with no blanket or anything. I don't think Davie will want me anymore, not after this morning."

"Did he rape you, honey?" Penelope's eyes teared up and she absently rubbed her hand over her stomach in an effort to self-soothe. "Erin?"

"Yes," she whispered. "He whistled as he did it."

"Did you recognize the tune?"

"It wasn't a tune, it sounded more like a bird."

For some reason this detail caused Penelope to pause, but she didn't want to voice her suspicions to Erin, just in case he was listening in on their conversation. "Oh, my sweet Erin. When I find you, I am going to love on you so much, if you let me. I promise that David will want you, he loves you and only you. And I love you, too. Every time you call, I am going to speak those words of love into your ear, okay?"

"All right." Erin sighed deeply. "I can hear his footsteps outside my room. I have to go now. Thank you for loving me."

"You're welcome. Call back as soon as you can." The line went dead, and Penelope burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. Her phone rang once more, and she picked it up, knowing that it wouldn't be Erin, and that she wouldn't be able to hide the fact that she was upset. "Hello?"

"Garcia? What's wrong? Did you get another call?"

There was something soothing about Blake's voice, and she nodded a little. "Yes. He, he raped her, Alex. He violated her, made her feel like Rossi won't love her now. I promised to tell her how much we love her every time she can call, but is that going to be enough?"

"I know that you will make certain that it is, dear. Are you up to doing a few searches for me, though? I need some information."

She tried to pull herself together as she rolled over to her computer screens. "Sure, ask away." As Blake rattled off a few search parameters, Penelope got in the zone of work, quickly finding out what the team needed for the case. "Alex?"

"Yes, Penelope?"

"Tell Rossi that he is loved beyond words. Please?"

"I will do that." They hung up, and Penelope stood, going over to her couch and curling up, resting her head on the pillow.

"The whistling sounded like a bird. Curtis had a personal vendetta against Erin. Who else might have a personal vendetta against her? There's only one person I know that whistled like a bird, but he is so far removed from us now. Isn't he?"

She stared at the ceiling as she spoke to herself, trying to talk her brain out of jumping to the conclusion that somehow Jason Gideon was involved. After all, it was coincidence that Erin had mentioned the sound of birdsong. It had to be.

Bolting up, she hurried over to her computer and began an in depth search for Gideon. She had done much the same, after he had left them all those years ago, and turned up nothing at the time. While her computers ran that search, she looked up his son's number. It was still in her database of contacts, and she pulled out her personal cellphone to call him.

His phone rang three times before he picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Penelope Garcia. I used to work with your father at the FBI."

She heard the low groan of displeasure that the man tried to mask before he answered her, and she frowned. "How can I help you?"

"I was hoping to get ahold of your father. See, Dr. Reid has been having a rough time of things lately, and I thought it would be nice if I could hook him up with his old mentor once more. I know that it would cheer him up."

"I haven't heard from my father in four years."

"Stephen, please. Anything you can give me to go on would be appreciated. Do you have a more current phone number or address for him?"

He sighed again in frustration, but Penelope also heard him get up and move around the room he was in. "Give me a few moments."

"Of course, take your time."

She listened to the rustling of papers and crossed her toes as she picked up a pen to write with. "Here, this is the most current number that I have for him, 540-555-6294. If that doesn't work, I have nothing else for you. And if you do get ahold of him, tell him that his grandchildren miss him, but he's never to contact us again. I've told them that he's dead."

"Oh, okay. Um, thanks and have a good day?"

"You, too, Penelope."

She pulled up her trusty database of phone numbers and plugged in Gideon's number, coming up with a location. "Belspring," she whispered, calling up her map program and looking at the terrain of the area. It was perfect for keeping someone hidden, what with the mountains and forests. It was the perfect place for Gideon, far away from technology and everything he hated about the modern world. But did that really make him partners with Curtis?

Sighing, she pushed away from her desk and made her way over to her sofa, pulling out her personal cell phone and calling Blake. "Yeah, Garcia?"

"Are you somewhere where we can talk?"

"Give me one second." She listened to her walk around, and then heard a door close. "All right, I'm alone right now. What is up?"

"I think Gideon has Erin. Tell me I am wrong, and that I am jumping to conclusions here. That my brain is creating patterns where there are none."

"First, breathe in deeply, and try to calm down." Penelope did as told, feeling a bit calmer. "Now, tell me why you think Gideon might be behind this."

"Something that Erin mentioned. He was whistling like a bird when he raped her. Gideon loved birds, he was obsessed with them. So, I called his son, looking for a phone number or address for him. The number he gave is for Belspring, Virginia. Looking at the map, it's a great place for keeping someone captive. Very secluded, by a forest and mountains. But that could just be coincidence, right? Please, tell me I'm wrong."

There was a long pause, and Penelope felt her heart sink. "I want you to do some more digging in that direction, Penelope. That is too coincidental for comfort."

"I will, Alex. Stay safe out there."

"You, too." They hung up, and Penelope sighed, feeling crushed at the very real possibility that they would have to chase after a former friend.


End file.
